


The Corvin's Lament

by Iamyournexus



Series: Story Prompts [2]
Category: Howl's Moving Castle - All Media Types, Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-18
Updated: 2021-02-18
Packaged: 2021-03-14 14:02:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29543481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Iamyournexus/pseuds/Iamyournexus
Summary: Prompt #2
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson
Series: Story Prompts [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2154690
Kudos: 5





	The Corvin's Lament

I was alone. Alone protects me. 

For the better part of 25 years, I had friends and comrades, but these days, I have had only myself and the occasional interference of my overbearing sister, Harry. Tonight, as in most nights, I find myself typing up my comments on the latest chiding replies on my blog posts. I sighed and looked out the balcony doors, it looked serene, perhaps a cigarette break is in order.  I stepped out onto the balcony and looked up into the sky.  The moon was full; the snow reflecting the light so much that everything was the colour of faded blue twilight.  I was 5 months into rehab. The last overdose almost killed me. Pain medication to help me sleep through the nightmares turned into pain medication to stop feeling altogether. My sister made me promise to try to do better. She doesn’t understand. I don’t think she ever will.  A numbing cold wind bit my ears as I tried in vain to light my smoke.  The only noise that could be heard was the soft warble of a lone raven in a large oak tree nearby.  He always seemed to be there from the day I had arrived, the raven, when I was out on my balcony. I'd consider him a friend, although that may seem a little pathetic. At least he didn’t seem to pity me. He was a good listener. I spoke to him often, telling him about my tours in Afghanistan and scrapes we got ourselves into. The raven never came too close. Always perched on the oak tree listening to my musings in the middle of the night. 

"Good evening," I called him. 

The raven went silent and took off from the tree. 

I sighed, well, maybe he didn't want to be friends tonight. 

A flutter came up beside me. 

The raven was perched on the balcony, moving his head around looking at me. 

A small "Kraa" came forth as if he was returning the greeting. 

I smiled "I thought you'd have flown away, my friend. Not many people stay. No one stays" I looked up into the sky and sighed. 

He hopped closer. 

"Kraa-kraa" he warbled once more. 

I noticed that he had a bit of discoloration on his left-wing. A small starburst pattern in a more dark reddish colour than the rest of his feathers. A pattern that seemed to match my own scar, curious. His eyes were a dark blue with a hint of green. I’ve never seen such a thing in my life.  I lifted my hand to touch him and to my surprise, he leaned into my palm "I've heard that ravens are quite smart, can you speak at all?"  He fluttered his wings a bit and looked around, then flew into my room landing on the laptop on my bed.  I followed him to the bed where he was pecking at the closed laptop. 

I brushed my hand towards him in an askance for him to get off so I could open it "You can type?" 

"Kraa" was the only answer I received. 

"This is crazy" I muttered to myself, opening a word doc and turning it towards the bird. 

Immediately the bird went to work, tapping on keys with its beak. 

I blinked and shook my head. There is a bird, in my room, typing on my laptop. Definitely not the way I thought this evening was going to go. 

The bird looked up "kraa" and I turned the laptop around. 

To my delight and utter surprise it said: 

"Sherlock"

I just stared at him in astonishment. "Sherlock?" He fluttered his wings and made that soft warble noise again. “That’s...your name?” 

“kraaaa”

I laughed. "This is amazing,  _ you’re _ amazing" 

He hid his head underneath a wing as if imitating being embarrassed by the compliment. 

I giggled and ran my hands through my hair. 

He hopped up onto my lap and started typing again. "your name" 

"Oh, how rude of me, I've been speaking to you from afar for weeks and never told you my name... my name is John" I explained.

"kraaa" he said in a very low tone. 

"I know, not as interesting as Sherlock, but there it is. I have a sister, you’ve no doubt seen her around from time to time, her name is Harry" at this Sherlock bristled and made a squawking sound. 

I smirked "She's a bit an arsehole, I agree with your assessment".

"Can I ask you some questions? Don't worry I’ll try to keep it yes or no'' 

Sherlock turned to get a better look at me. 

"Do you live around here?" 

head nod: yes

"Are you someone's pet?" 

A bristling of feathers and head shake: no 

"Do you talk to people often?" 

headshake no

Am I the first? 

"kraaa" Head nod: yes

"Ok, not a yes or no question: why are you talking to me?" 

He turned back to the keyboard.

"u r lonely me 2" 

I looked down and away. "I see"  He fluttered up onto my shoulder, nestled up close to my neck, and sang a low, sad song.  "Thank you, Sherlock. I don't know how or why you've come into my life, but I’m very glad you did" I brought my hands up to my shoulder and stroked his feathers lightly.  A thought entered “I have an idea, Sherlock. Would you like to accompany me to see a colleague of mine tomorrow. Her name is Martha Hudson and she’s an ornithologist and would be delighted to meet you, I think”. Sherlock gave him a low warble. 

“Excellent! Well, I should probably get some sleep. Are you going to stay or do you need to fly home?” Sherlock flew across the room and nested in a pile of clothes in the corner of the room. 

I smirked. “Goodnight Sherlock” 

“Kraaaaa” 

A few hours later I awoke to a terrible screeching noise. I bolted upright and looked around to see Sherlock squawking at my older sister. 

“John! What on earth? When did you get an attack bird?!” cried Harry trying to defend herself with a broom. 

“Sherlock! Stop! It’s fine, get over here” he called. The raven looked at him and blinked and fluttered over and perched on his shoulder warbling low into my ear. 

I smiled and stroked his beak. 

“I didn’t get an attack bird, Harry. This is Sherlock.” I introduced “Sherlock, Harry. Harry, Sherlock” waving my hands. 

“Charmed” Harry stiffened, 

“Kraaa” as Sherlock ruffled his feathers. 

“What are you doing in my room?” I asked, slowly rising from the bed, Sherlock keeping his balance on my shoulder. 

“You left your balcony doors open the whole night, it’s freezing in here and it seems foolish to run the heat in the house if you continually leave the doors open all night IN THE MIDDLE OF WINTER!”

“Oh. Apologies” I stammered, now realizing how cold it was in my room, grabbing my housecoat, “I’m going to visit Mrs. Hudson today” changing the topic. 

Harry rolled her eyes “Fine. Fine…Listen, I’m gonna be out of town for a few days, shouldn’t be very long. Will you be alright on your own?” 

“Obviously, I have Sherlock here to keep me safe” pointing to my shoulder. 

She smirked “Quite right. Alright, Sherlock…” she started and the bird perked up and looked at her “Will you keep my brother out of trouble?” A happy warble came from the bird and that seemed to be enough for her. “Very well, see you in a few days”. 

Around half-ten, Sherlock and I left for Mrs. Hudson’s house. It was not too far of a walk from the country house we were living in. Sherlock flew high in the sky, no doubt looking for a morning meal. I arrived at Mrs. Hudson’s cottage sooner than expected, getting lost in my thoughts during the walkover. I knocked at the door and waited, watching Sherlock circle in the sky above me. I smiled.  The door opened and Mrs. Hudson looked at me almost aghast. 

“John?” she began. 

I turned to look at her still smiling. 

“Are you alright, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you… like this?” sounding worried. 

“Like what?” I cocked my head in confusion. 

“...happy? ...smiling? What’s gotten you in such a good mood? Ooo! Are you working on a new blog post?” clapping her hands in excitement. 

I huffed a bit of a laugh, which only confused her more. “I’ve made a friend actually”. 

Her eyes narrowed at me “Explain”. 

“Better to show you I think” smiling once more. “Sherlock!” I called. 

She looked around me, not seeing anything. “Oh John, you’ve finally lost it haven’t you? Now you’re making imaginary friends to deal with your PTS…” and her dismissal was cut off short when the most handsome raven landed on my shoulder. 

“Mrs. Hudson…” I began “This is Sherlock”. 

“A raven! Oh my, aren’t you lovely! Sherlock is it?” She extended her hand to him. He ruffled his feathers as if nervous. “It’s alright, she’ll be gentle, I promise” I whispered to him. He gave a soft warble and walked down my arm and onto Mrs. Hudson’s. 

“Kraaaa” 

“That means hello, I think,” I informed her. 

“Oh Sherlock, aren’t you wonderful. Please come inside.” She kept her arm steady and brought the two of us inside her cottage. 

I followed her to the sitting room, where I saw several occupied birdcages. Sherlock started to squawk when he saw the confined birds and quickly flew back to my shoulder, clearly nervous. “It’s ok, she’s not imprisoning these birds” I quickly tried to explain.  “That’s right. All the birds here are hurt and I’m doing my best to get them back to full health” Mrs. Hudson called “Here, let me introduce you” she beckoned us over. 

“This crow’s feet got stuck in some wire, so he’s going to stay here for a couple more days while it heals. This pigeon’s beak was damaged and I’m waiting for my 3D print of his new beak to come in the mail. And finally, this goldfinch...actually I’m not quite sure what’s wrong with him, he just seems… sad. Not sure how to help with that. But he can go and fly about when he wants to, he’s not stuck in the cage, like the other two (because I can’t have them be moving around too much yet)”. 

I leaned down to look at the small bird “What do you think, Sherlock? Is this one ok?”.  He hopped down my arm and croaked at the finch. They replied in a slow chirping noise.

“Do you have a laptop I can borrow?” I asked. 

“Oh, of course” she exited the room and brought back her computer “Here you are” she set it on the nearby coffee table. I strode over and opened a word doc as Sherlock fluttered over and started typing. 

She narrowed her eyes and looked from me to the bird. “What is he doing?” 

“I’m assuming he asked the finch what was wrong…?” I tried. 

Sure enough, when Sherlock finished typing we got our answer. 

“mate died”

Sherlock gave a slow and sad warble and flew back to my shoulder and nestled into my neck and I stroked his feathers. 

“Oh dear” she looked down and somber at the poor yellow bird “You can stay for as long as you like, little one” speaking to the finch. 

Sherlock croaked softly and the finch chirped in return. She turned and looked at Sherlock “Thank you”.

With a sigh, she turned to her kitchen and put the kettle on. “Although, I'm very happy to see you my dear, and to have Sherlock’s help...what do I owe this occasion for?” she called “Or did you come by today just to show him off?” she smiled. 

I smiled “Obviously the latter, he’s a remarkable bird”. Sherlock softly cooed in my ear. 

“He can understand everything we’re saying, can’t he?” she strode back into the living room with two cups of tea. 

“It would appear so, he even had a go at Harry this morning” I laughed. 

“Sherlock” she called and he perked up “Can you come here for a moment?” he hopped down and perched in front of her on the table.  She looked him all over, noting the same peculiarities as I did, the starburst pattern on his left-wing and his eyes. “I assume the pattern on your wing is an old wound, yes?” 

“Kraaa” he answered. 

“But your eyes, my dear, what blue eyes you have. Never have I seen a raven, an adult raven, with blue eyes before. It’s very strange, beautiful undoubtedly, but strange. Of course, I’ve read a lot about ravens in my years, they are quite integral to the lore of Scotland, England, the Celts, and Gaelic mythology. Not sure I ever came across one that was named Sherlock, though” she smiled and stroked his feathers. “He’s definitely unique…” she trailed off “I wonder….”

I looked at her over the rim of my teacup as she mused “Wonder, what?” I replied.

“Tell me Sherlock…” she began “Have you ever encountered a Magpie before?” 

Sherlock bristled immediately and gave a loud and angry squawk, almost nipping at her fingers “Oh dear, that would explain a lot…” she finished. 

“What’s this about a Magpie?” I asked 

“It was a story that I told as a little girl. A man’s husband was ill. No healer could help him…” Sherlock hopped up on John’s lap and burrowed into his coat. “As the man gave in to despair, a Magpie appeared and struck a deal with him. The Magpie claimed he could heal his husband and in return, the man would give up his humanity. Loving him and not wanting to see him suffer anymore, the man agreed.”  A soft sad warble came from John’s coat.  Mrs. Hudson smiled painfully “As the Magpie agreed, the husband was healed and the man turned into a raven. However, with such things, a Magpie is a trickster and deceptive. No sooner than the next day, his husband died by falling and hitting his head on a rock in their garden”.  I looked into my teacup, not sure what to say. 

“The man was doomed to live as a raven for all time. Never aging or dying” she finished her story. 

“Was there no way to free him of his fate?” I asked. 

She reluctantly shrugged “It is what it is, I'm afraid”. 

“Hmmm…” I thought to myself, finishing the last of my tea. “Thank you, Mrs. Hudson, I think we should be off”. I set my teacup down on the table and held Sherlock in the crook of one of my arms inside my coat. 

“Let’s go home” I whispered to him as we headed out the front door. 

“Do come back and visit, boys!” she called and waved goodbye. “I suppose I should have mentioned the part of the transformation…” she muttered to herself. 

As I walked backed to the house, Sherlock tucked in my coat, I mused about how being a raven can’t be all bad “...I’ve always wondered what it would be like to fly. To have the wind in my feathers, riding the updrafts, diving, soaring. Ironically, I suppose you have a freedom that I’ll never have, Sherlock.”  He didn’t reply, he just continued to sit quietly in my coat. 

“I was thinking about moving to London soon. Mrs. Hudson has an old flat there that she rents out. If I moved, would you come with me?” I asked. 

This stirred Sherlock from my coat, ruffling his feathers and walking out onto my arm to my shoulder. A soft coo in my ear and I smiled. “Is that a  _ yes _ then?” 

“Kraaa” 

“Good, I’m glad” I stroked his beak gently. 

He gently nipped at my lapel and then took off into the sky.  I didn’t see him again until later that night having my nightly cigarette on the balcony. 

He fluttered down looking exhausted and I quickly rushed over to him scooping him up in my arms. “Sherlock, are you alright?” he lay limp in my arms and brought him inside from the cold and laid him on my bed. He was still breathing at least. Should I call Mrs. Hudson? It was late, but if she knew Sherlock was in trouble, surely she’d let me bring him to her. I scrambled for my phone and just as I was about to connect the call, I looked to Sherlock to see him...changing? 

Before my eyes, the feathers grew into a small mound and a low warble turned into a raspy gasp. “Sherlock? What’s happening? Are you alright?” I reached out a hand towards the pile of feathers. 

“Johnnnnnn….” came a croaky voice. 

“Sherlock!” I rushed over to him. His body had grown to that of a human, yet still covered in feathers and wings jutting out from his back. When he moved his arms away from his head I could finally see him properly. My hand rested on the side of his face and he blinked his eyes open. Those beautiful blue-green eyes stared back at me. 

He smiled “hello”. 

“Sherlock?” I breathed back to him “Are you….what’s happened? I don’t understand…” 

He groaned and tried to sit up, but failed, just being able to turn over onto his back. His wings tucked in behind him. “Haven’t been in this form for a very long time” he rasped “This is as human as I can get nowadays…” closing his eyes.

I sat down on the bed beside him, in awe and wonder at the sight before me. He shimmered with black feathers and his hands had talon-like nails. 

“You’re... beautiful” I spoke suddenly and then quickly covered my mouth as a blush creeping up my face. 

He opened his eyes and looked at me. He shifted onto the bed again and managed to sit upright. He took my hand in his “You’re the gorgeous one” he said and kissed the back of my hand. 

If my face wasn’t red before, then now I must surely look like a cooked lobster. 

He smiled again and brought me into an embrace, his wings encircling the both of us. His feathers were soft, silky, and warm; I relaxed into his arms. 

“How is this possible?” I asked. 

“I’ve been cursed for quite some time I’m afraid” he rasped “ throughout the years, I’ve come close to breaking it, but I’ve only gotten this far.” He released me from his arms and looked back into my eyes. His hand came up to my face and caressed my cheek. He looked away almost shyly, “Do you… do you still want me to come to London with you?” 

I cupped my hand over his, “Obviously” I breathed, smiling at him. 

“How long can you stay in this form?” 

“Not very long, changing is quite exhausting” his shoulders now slumping, his wings drooping. He inched back to the headboard and slumped against the pillows. He opened his arms and I went to them without provocation. 

He wrapped his arms and wings around me and nuzzled into the top of my head. 

“Let’s rest” he spoke softly. 

“You’ll still be here when I wake up?” I said looking up into his eyes. 

“In one form or another, yes” he smiled back and ran his nose along the ridge of mine. 

I blushed furiously as our lips almost met. He pulled me in tighter and my head rested on his shoulders, my face in the crook of his neck. His feathers were soft and his arms around me brought me comfort and safety. We fell asleep in each other's arms that night and I couldn't help but think, I would very much like to fall asleep with this creature tomorrow night and all nights to come. 

“John, are you awake?” 

I grumbled and turned in my bed grasping for the phantom feathered figure from my dreams. It had been a wonderful dream. I opened my eyes to find Sherlock perched on one of my pillows. 

“Good morning” I groaned, throwing an arm across my eyes dramatically “I had the most wonderful dream, Sherlock, you were human but still covered in feathers. You were warm and we almost ki…” I stopped before I finished that sentence and burrowed my face back into the pillow. 

A croaky chuckle came from beside me. “That wasn’t a dream, John” 

“Wait a minute” I rose and looked at him with serious eyes now “I can hear you speak!”

Sherlock cocked his head to the side “Speak? You mean you can understand me? Am I speaking English and you can hear me or am I squawking and you just now understand what I'm saying?”

Sitting upright now and looking over to my feathery companion, I asked “I think you’re speaking English…?”

“Well, that’s certainly a new...development. I guess this means I don’t have to type anymore” he croaked. 

“This is wonderful, Sherlock!” I threw my hands up in the air. 

He flew and landed on my arm and nuzzled his beak against my cheek. I smiled. 


End file.
